I’ve been pondering lately what was special about the teams I’ve been on that have felt the most effective to me. It wasn’t just a certain set of practices, though those were helpful. The essence, I think, was a certain openness to ourselves and to each other, a willingness to really look at what we’re doing and how what we’re doing affects the project, ourselves, and each other.
Retrospectives are a specific practice that provides regular opportunities for this kind of openness. But even more, when I’ve really felt productive there’s been a pervading attitude on the team that it’s always okay to take a moment to explore some interaction or event at a deeper, more personal level.
One day, on a team of four, we were programming in two pairs. At some point my partner and I noticed that the other pair had reduced to a solo. We asked, “Where’s your partner?” and he replied, “I think he got upset with me.” My partner replied, “Well, I hope we can talk about that later.” And the really amazing thing is: We did. The partner returned, and described what he had gotten frustrated about, and we were all able to talk constructively about how to deal with that kind of frustration.
Another day, on another team, also while pairing, I noticed my partner withdraw and get quiet. I wasn’t quite sure why, though I was aware that we had been debating some technical point. She started to go on with the task, but I stopped to ask what was up, and she said, “I’m just not getting much ‘Yes, and…’ from you right now.” We had both learned the “Yes, and…” principle from improv classes—which I highly recommend—and it was an easy way to remind ourselves to respect and build upon each others’ ideas rather than only pursuing our own. This quick check-in in the middle of a task short-cut what could have been a long period of frustration, leading instead to a productive, collaborative session.
As I said, this isn’t about specific practices as much as it is about a thorough willingness to talk to each other openly and to respect each others’ thoughts and feelings. Obviously, I think that Agile practices, especially retrospectives and pair programming (when done well), are a good way to foster this kind of openness. In fact, what first drew me into the Extreme Programming community was the openness to learning that it demonstrated.
In my short career up to that point, I felt that I wasn’t really learning much—I was already a pretty good programmer, but the really tricky problems on my projects were less about programming and more about communicating with each other and with the project’s stakeholders and about finding ways to keep everyone sane in the face of growing complexity and business uncertainty. These were the real challenges, but no one was really addressing them—until I found the XP community, who were meeting every month to talk about exactly these issues, and about what they were trying and what they were learning about them.
Now, of course, this kind of concern for how we work together is not the exclusive domain of Agile communities, though some of us often talk that way. The CMM community is likewise dedicated to trying new things and talking candidly about how they’re working, albeit with a more formal approach. The Space Shuttle software project case study described in the CMM book is actually quite an inspiring story of worker empowerment and process experimentation and improvement over time.
Why do many in the Agile community criticize the CMM, lumping it together with the straw man process known as “Waterfall”? I think that Waterfall is an example of formality in a process without authentic openness and introspection. When a manager looks at an undisciplined project and sees it spinning out of control, the most common reaction is to impose some control with some mandated formality. The CMM may be used as a framework for that formality, even though the authors of the CMM themselves strongly warn against using it to impose formality without honest assessment and openness to continuous improvement attached. (They even have nice things to say about XP.)
I’ve been exploring the practice of mindfulness lately, and I think it nicely captures the kind of openness and introspection I’m talking about here. Mindfulness can be practiced through activities such as meditation, improvisation, journaling, and reflective listening, and has documented benefits for compassion, empathy, concentration, and even happiness itself.
I can easily see the appropriate level of formality varying based on the nature of the project, but this quality of mindfulness seems essential to any endeavor. Agile methods tend to be moderate to low on the formality scale, and—when they work—high on the mindfulness scale.
How are you mindful of your work? How are you not?